


Pressure Release Valve

by GasolineGhuleh



Category: Ghost (Sweden Band)
Genre: Choking, Dom/sub, Edging, Established Relationship, F/M, Pet Names, Spanking, Teasing, daddy - Freeform, popia - Freeform, rough
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:27:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25585906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GasolineGhuleh/pseuds/GasolineGhuleh
Summary: Prompt is a Dom Popia who comes home after a rough day. As his lover, you know the perfect way to tempt him into letting off some steam.Requested from the site that has ko in it. Inquire on Tumblr.
Relationships: Papa Emeritus IV/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 41





	Pressure Release Valve

You lay spread eagle on the (now) blue clad bed, your shift tousled nicely around your frame. Of course it was artfully fluffed out by you, but he would be none the wiser. You have been waiting for him for what felt like hours now, but you knew how busy Papa was now that he had ascended. The Ghouls needed his attention now more than ever, as the second album for the Ghost project was in the works. That didn’t mean that he didn’t have time for you, however. He would usually fly through the door in a huff and instantly come to your side, burying his face in your hair and complaining about whatever shenanigans the Ghouls had gotten up to that day. It’s one of your favourite things- comforting him as he complains about his day.

The door to his chambers finally swings open as he enters, scowl already evident on his newly painted face. Something about his demeanor tells you that you shouldn’t push him- not tonight. However, you also know that this mood leads to some of the best fucks the two of you ever share. You decide, reason be damned, you’ll push him. Sometimes he needed to be pushed after a hard day for some good old fashioned stress relief. He knows why you do it, and you know that he’s always thankful for the excuse to let off some steam in a healthy way. You sit up onto your knees and address him.

“Welcome home, daddy.” Papa looks sharply to you through the door between the bedroom and the outer office. He clearly takes note of your shift and freshly brushed and shining hair. Copia gives you a quick jerk of his head as a ‘hello’ and returns to slowly removing his papal vestments. You can tell that his mind is preoccupied, presumably with something that happened within the clergy.

You rise from the bed in a slow and exaggerated manner, making sure that the shift exposes the top of your cleavage. Equally slowly you make your way to the door, leaning on the frame and watching as he removes the blue robe, tossing it to an adjacent chair with a sigh. His fingers trail to the buttons of his suit coat as he turns back to you, eyebrow raised.

“You had a good day of doing nothing, it seems. The Ghouls are running me ragged now that the ascendency is over with. So many questions about the next album. ‘What are we calling it, Papa?’ and ‘Do we need more keys, Papa?’. So many damned questions. Why did I get such a chatty bunch?” As he talks, his fingers dance over the buttons of his suit, shucking the overcoat quickly as he toes out of his shoes and kicks them to the side. He tosses the overcoat onto the back of a chair, draping it like he hadn’t done with the robe. Odd that he still shows reverence for his old suits, even though they weren’t the newly tailored papal robes.

“You complain but I think, Papa, that you quite like them.” You move fully into the room, coming forward to help him undo the buttons of the shirt he wears under the coat. “So many layers now. It’s such an inconvenience for me, you know. So much work just to get you down to a base level of comfort, hm?” Finally, a small smile tilts his lips up- you always know exactly what to say to make him feel a little better, no matter the situation. Under the paint he was the same Copia you knew and loved, just with an elevated status now. Lucky for you, you knew exactly how to work up your same old Copia.

“I suppose I do, yes. Right as always, dove. Perhaps I can have the papal tailors look into making these robes ‘easy off’ eh? Just for you. I’ll get some velcro installed so you can tear them off of me at a whim.” His eyes drift shut as you graze the back of your hand across his cheek and he pauses for a moment. Finally he grabs your hand and kisses your knuckles swiftly. “I miss you when I’m gone, you know.”

“Yes, I know.” You pull your hand from his grasp and continue your mission with the buttons, now moving to his wrists. “Copia… I don’t think I like the blue.” You glance up at him and see his eyes narrow just slightly. You know he’d picked blue of his own volition and it was quickly becoming a sore spot. You have a feeling that the Ghouls tease him for the colour choice as well.

“Go on.” He sounds like he’s feigning interest- your opinion of the colour choice doesn’t matter to him one way or the other. He is Papa. He makes the choices.

“Well the other Papas… their colours were so regal and commanding, you know? Red is strong, and green makes me think of greed and envy. Obviously red was a good choice to start the Ghost project with, especially with the tone that Papa went with. Green, now... green just made his paint look good and he knew it. Good examples for the Satanic church, yeah? Purple, well…” You can feel him tense under you as you remove his dress shirt and cast it to the side to join the robes.

“Purple what.” His tone has gone deadly soft- dangerous ground for you, you know. Your spine prickles at the thought of what could come next. Copia had a rivalry with Terzo that had become less friendly in recent years. You know he compares himself to the fallen anti-pope often, even down to how he performs on stage. A few times he even received notes from Terzo on his most recent performance, giving him “tips” on how to perform- something that only left him more incensed at him.

“Well purple just makes me think of opulence. Rich and decadent. Dark chocolate with rich red wine, and laying in bed fucking all day. The Third was a sensual lover, you know. I never got to fuck him, but damn did I try. Some of the other Siblings told me some down right horror stories about how their legs would just stop working after a while.” You laugh softly, and you can hear his intake of breath before he starts to speak. You cut him off. “Not to say that blue isn’t a /good/ choice, but it certainly isn’t the best is it?”

“I am warning you, little bird, tread carefully. Wouldn’t want to clip your wings, would we?” His words are short and quick, belying the slight anger that's beginning to rise to the surface. When your hand comes to rest on his face he snatches it quickly, gripping your wrist slightly tighter than necessary. “What else were you going to say, love?” Inwardly, you smile. This was going to be fun. His smile has a certain coldness to it that usually precedes the most delicious punishments he gives you.

“Oh nothing, Papa. Just. Perhaps we should rethink your colour scheme. It shouldn’t be too expensive to get new robes to replace those rags, would it?” You make sure to keep your tone light and airy, almost conversational.

That worked.

Papa surges forward and presses you back, one hand on your wrist and the other on your hip, guiding you backward until you hit the drink cabinet just a few steps behind you with a thump and a tinkle of glass. He’s over you, raised to his full height and looking down his nose at you. Heart in your throat, you go to move the hand he isn't holding forward before he snatches it and slams it back against the cabinet. Something inside breaks, and you’re vaguely aware of the sound of crunching glass. Papa’s two-toned eyes flick to the cabinet behind you and then narrow. You can hear some kind of liquid sloshing around, and you fully expect some sort of scolding for it.

“And you want to stand by that statement?” You pretend to think for a moment before nodding, smiling innocently. Papa leans slightly down, lips brushing the crest of your ear as he drops his tone, dangerous and predatory. “You’re going to regret this, little birdy.” Biting your own lip, you attempt to raise yourself to meet his eye.

“Then make me.”

Without another word Papa picks you up, heaving you over his shoulder and clamping one hand onto your upper thigh as he does so. As he pulls you away from the drink cabinet there’s another crash and more breaking glass from inside of it. You manage to yelp out a shocked cry before he starts walking in the direction of your shared bedroom, his other hand patting you rhythmically on the ass as he does so. He isn’t spanking you hard, but it certainly is sending the proper message and does nothing for the heat that’s pooled between your legs in the hours you spent waiting for him. It’s a short trip but long enough to make you feel thoroughly owned.

Papa tosses you onto the bed without fanfare and you flop slightly on the mattress as you struggle to regain your bratty composure. He stands facing you and looks down his nose at you- you’re faintly aware that he’s cracking his knuckles inside of the gloves. Eyebrows tilted down and a slight frown at the edges of his lips make you shudder, but the mirth in his eyes makes it clear that he’s not actually upset with you. You scramble up to a seated position on your knees and jut your lip out at him, hands on your hips.

“All I said was-”

“All you said was disrespect to your Papa. Now, you pay. You know the rules of the Clergy, my Sister. You made the deal with your Papa.” Papa makes a show of tugging off his gloves with his teeth as you shrink back from him on the bed. It’s a game the two of you don’t get to play often, but certainly one that you both enjoy. The hand not at his mouth is palming over the swelling bulge in his pants, and your eyes lock onto it. The pants only seem to have gotten tighter since he ascended- a fact you’re acutely aware of.

“Technically I made the deal with my Cardinal. But how uh- how am I going to pay, daddy?” Despite knowing what you were going to get yourself into, the predatory look in his eye has the low simmer of lust burning in your gut, along with a slight feeling of fear as you continue to push him. “Are you going to punish me like I deserve?”

Papa says nothing, but removes his gloves finger by finger with his teeth, almost relishing in the glide of leather across his skin. Copia discards his gloves behind him with a /thwack/ as they land on the cold stone floor. Slowly he comes forward, putting one knee up onto the bed as his eyes never leave yours. He nods just slightly- just enough for you to gulp a swallow before you scoot back on the bed to give him some room to join you. He finally is fully on the bed with you as he reaches down and draws his undershirt off over his head. Instantly your eyes are glued to his chest, granting yourself a moment to appreciate the freckles that dot his pale skin and the smattering of chest hair that he has. With a flourish, he tosses the white undershirt to join the gloves on the floor.

“Come forward, little one. I won’t hurt you too badly.” Copia rises up onto his knees and motions you forward. “On your stomach I think, yes? Oh, and we can be divested of this. Since blue is such an offensive colour to you.” His hands come forward faster than you thought possible, gripping the cleavage of your shift quickly and tearing it from your body with a loud rip as it splits down the front. He whips it away from you and throws it behind him, leaving you completely exposed to him. He gives a slight smile of approval as he notices that you’ve neglected to wear panties today. At this point, he certainly knows that this was your intention from the start. 

“Yes, daddy.” You slink forward on all fours and lay down in front of him on your stomach, as instructed. Your heart beat is pounding in your throat and you can hear the rush of blood in your eardrums as you lay before him, unsure exactly what was coming next. Underneath you the bed sheets are cool on your skin and provide a welcome relief from the warmth of your desire. 

“It’s Papa.” You gasp as his hand comes to your ass, gripping the muscle before pulling back and slapping you. A soft moan finally drops from your lips as you get the contact you’ve been craving- his hand is soft and warm, as it always is. “Here is what we’re going to do, my dove. I am going to spank, and you are going to count. Can you do that for me?” 

“I think so, Papa.” A wry grin climbs its way across your face as you feel him settle into the dominant role. You had been correct earlier- he needed this. To tempt him further you wiggle your hips slightly, moving your ass enticingly in front of him. A slight intake of breath is all that you hear before his hand comes down hard on your ass and you manage to gasp out, “One!”. Copia’s hand rubs softly where he spanked, soothing the hurt with the soft warmth of his hand as your thighs tremble.

“I think ten sounds amenable, my dear.” Before you can respond his hand flies through the air once more to land on the opposite side of your ass, the /crack/ audible in the otherwise silent chambers. You gasp and manage to eke out the number ‘two’, proud of how steady your voice is holding even though you know you won’t be able to keep it stable for much longer.

The two of you continue like this for the rest of the duration, him spanking and you counting. On the tenth strike your voice breaks and a moan slides through, your thighs trembling with the attempt to keep your hips from grinding down into the bed. You twine your hands into the sheet beneath your fingers, gasping and making small abortive movements with your hips. Papa takes note of your diligence and chuckles darkly, bringing his face close to yours and blowing softly on your ear as he speaks.

“My little ghuleh, if I were to touch you right now, what would I find? Are you slick for me? Do you want your Papa to reach between your legs and touch you?” You grip the bed sheets tightly between your fists and groan, every inch of your body fighting the urge to thrust your hips back into his hand where you can feel it hovering just above your skin. “You’ve been such a good girl so far, do you think you deserve a reward?”

Once you nod into the bedsheets, wriggling and panting softly, you feel his hand lightly rest on your ass. You know better than to spread your legs before he tells you. Everything in your brain has focused on that single point of contact- his warm hand on your ass, slightly stinging from the spanking you’d already received. Finally the tip of his middle finger dips lower and glides just lightly over your lips and you buck, a loud groan falling from your lips as you do. 

“Yes, yes, I know. I know you want this so badly.” Again you only nod, panting open mouthed. Copia drags his index finger over your clit and you tremble, finally letting loose a moan as his middle finger slides slowly inside of you. He continues the slow glide of his finger inside you, grazing your clit with every few thrusts inside. “Does my good girl want more, hm?”

“Yes! God, yes!” Everything inside of you wants to spread your legs wide and beg to be taken thoroughly, but you know to do that would only delay it. Papa loves this particular role play of yours- teasing and edging you and only making you wait longer every time you beg or plead for his cock to be inside of you. The desire for more keeps you in line currently as you dutifully keep your legs together until he tells you otherwise.

“I didn’t quite hear you, pet. What was that?” You moan and grumble into the bed sheets, not quite lifting your head up completely. A small yelp leaves you as his hand cracks down on your ass again, the reddened marks from his hand turning into welts as the minutes ticked by. “I said I couldn’t hear you. Repeat.” 

“Yes! I want more!” If you had any more control over your shame, you may even be embarrassed with how wonton you were in the depths of your lust. Copia ekes another gasp and moan from you as he slides his index finger in beside his middle, starting a small pumping rhythm that keeps you gasping with each delicious slide.

“You want more, what?” You can hear the smile in his voice even as he continues to tease you, his two fingers spreading you open so deliciously. In the back of your mind you know that he’s spreading you so you can take his cock, but you’re only focused on him continuing the sensations. You can almost feel the edge of your climax dangling out of reach- that rubber band inside of you being pulled tighter and tighter but still not quite tight enough to snap and send you careening into pleasure..

“I want more, Papa,” you grit out between your teeth. Any restraint you had disappears as Papa pulls his hand away from you, his fingers sliding out slickly. He brings them to his mouth and curls his tongue lasciviously around them, groaning as he tastes you on them. “God, Papa. Please take me, I’ve been waiting for you for hours!” His eyebrows shoot up at your blatant desire and he grins.

“Fine, pet. I’ll take you.” There’s something dangerous in his tone still and you can’t quite shake the feeling that your punishment still isn’t over. Copia slides back and gets off of the bed, pulling you by your hips roughly the edge. His hand slides up your spine and you shiver as he grips your hair tightly. “You stay just like this for your Papa, yes? Nice and bent over so I can see you. Do not move.” 

“Yes, Papa!” Your feet are flat on the floor so you’re bent at the waist, hand still gripping the bed sheets. Gaining a slight bit of courage you wiggle your hips, knowing that Copia was directly behind you. Doing what, you weren’t sure. You instantly regret your choice when both hands squeeze your ass harshly, making the reddened part of your skin ache. 

“I said stay still.” He pats your ass one more time, softly, before you hear two small thumps. You start to pick up your head only to bury your face in the bed once more when you feel his tongue connect directly with your clit. Copia licks the length of your cunt twice before pulling back and gliding his finger around your entrance. “Papa wants dinner, you see. You’ll have to wait for yours.”

Another moment passes before you feel his tongue again. He presses the flat of his tongue to you, sliding easily between your lips and moaning softly when you do. The vibration only furthers your arousal and you’re suddenly thankful that both of his hands have come to your ass- stabilising and holding you in place for him. Copia sucks your clit lightly into his mouth as his tongue comes out to lathe across it. He pulls back with an audible /pop/ and continues licking the length of you, clearly making a meal of it. 

Finally he pulls back slightly, bringing his hands up to spread your lips for his wandering tongue. He swirls it once, twice, three times around your entrance before wiggling his tongue into you, moaning against you as he hears you cry out. Copia slowly eases his index finger back inside of you, twisting until he finds the spot inside of you that makes you sing so sweetly for him- and sing you do. He coaxes you over the edge of your climax and you cum with a full body shudder and a keen, your pussy gripping his finger inside of you as you do so. 

“Good girl, my little dove. So good.” Copia rises from his knees, grumbling when they crack, and slides his hands up your spine lovingly. Once you’ve come down from your orgasm he urges you forward, nudging you back up onto the bed on all fours. He situates you how he needs you- low on your forearms with your ass, once more, presented to him. “Are you ready for me?” You jerk slightly from oversensitivity when you feel the head of his thick cock probing your entrance. 

“Does it matter?” You have enough wherewithal to continue your game of taunting and teasing the man, swaying your hips once more as he attempts to align himself. 

“No.” With a single thrust he seats himself fully inside of you, groaning at the feeling of your heat around his cock. He offers you a brief moment to get comfortable with his size before he starts moving- long and slow strokes that do nothing for the arousal that’s returned, simmering in your core. “No, ghuleh, it doesn’t matter. This body is mine to use.” You have time to moan and nod your assent before he starts fucking into you with harder strokes, hips snapping against your ass with an audible noise of flesh on flesh. 

There’s no more speaking from either of you as he uses your body for his own pleasure, his strokes getting faster as he devotes himself entirely to it. When you have the chance to rise up onto your elbows and glance back, you’re gifted with the sight of Copia utterly ruined and debauched. There’s traces of your slick still around his mouth and chin, and his face paint is completely destroyed and smeared across his face. His head is tilted back and his jaw is dropped open as he moans and pants, his hands grabbing at you reflexively every time he thrusts into you. 

“Copia… Copia take me.” You moan and drop your head back onto the pillow, squeezing your walls around his cock until his groans deep in his throat. “Take me and show me who owns me. Tell me, daddy.” He utters a string of curses as his hips slam into yours, grinding up as his hands squeeze your ass.

“Come here,” he practically growls at you. His hands leave your ass and come to your shoulders, heaving you up until your back is flat against his chest, his cock still inside of you. Copia brings an arm around your throat, holding you taut against him as he continues thrusting upwards into you. You let out a moan of surprise that turns into a scream of pleasure as his other hand leaves your shoulder, trailing to your clit and rubbing in practiced circles. There’s nothing delicate about his touch- it’s a pure onslaught of pleasure and a clear need to make you cum. 

“Fuck, Copia! You fill me so good.” Your words trail off into a strangled moan as his arm squeezes tighter on your throat. He mumbles in your ear, reminding you of the safe word before continuing, tightening once more. Still he’s thrusting into you, every stroke landing on that small spot inside of you that makes you see stars- the pace that he’s setting leaves little room for deep breaths as he continues to fill you. Every time his hips connect with your ass the sharp sting reminds you of your punishment and makes it so much sweeter.

“Can you cum for me, little dove? Can you cum on your Papa’s cock?” When you moan your assent he leans his head down just enough to bite your neck, shifting his arm away from your throat to instead grip it in his hand. He squeezes the side of your throat just enough that you begin to feel the heady dizziness of deprivation before the finger on your clit seems to double in speed, tapping and swirling around the little nub of pleasure. 

You cum like this, twitching and shuddering in Copia’s arms as he latches his teeth onto your neck, biting and licking the skin under his mouth. He groans deep in your ear as you squeeze on his cock, his own thrusts finally stuttering as he nears his own climax. As you come down from yours he lets go of your neck, push you back forward onto your elbows again. His hands come to either side of your ass, squeezing and spanking you once more as he finally thrusts hard into you. You can feel his cock jerking and pulsing inside of you as he fills you, his hips giving small abortive thrusts as he does so. 

Copia takes a deep breath, leaning over you slightly as he regains his composure. Finally he pulls back from you, leaving you feeling slightly empty and bereft once his cock slides out of you. You flop down onto your stomach with a satisfied hum as you hear Copia busy himself in the bathroom, disposing of the condom and getting a wet wash rag. 

“Roll over, love.” He urges you onto your back, bringing the cloth to your face and wiping the sweat from your brow. He moves it lower gently, washing off your chest and even daubing between your legs lightly before you wave him away, giggling in a sudden burst of embarrassment. Copia laughs himself and goes back to the washroom, presumably rinsing off the ruined papal paint. When he returns, you lift your arms to him and clench your hands several times.

“C’mere. I want my Papa.” Copia barks out a quick laugh and comes over to the bed, stopping at the nightstand. He pulls open the drawer and takes out a small bottle of Tylenol, popping the cap and shaking out three of the capsules into the fall of his hand. He puts the bottle back in the drawer and hands you the capsules, which you swallow dry. Finally he comes to lay beside you, pulling a blanket from the bottom of the bed over the two of you. 

“Your Papa, eh? Not your daddy?” You shake your head and plant a kiss on his cheek, pulling back to swipe your thumb where he missed some of the paint. This was how you liked him the best- clean faced and comfortable. 

“No, just my Papa.” You lapse into silence for a moment as Copia slides his hand down to grab yours, twining his fingers with yours and squeezing. “Did you have a bad day today? Did I guess right?” He chuckles softly and squeezes you against him for a moment, resting his chin on the top of your head and pressing a kiss there.

“Yes, you did. You always seem to know how my day was before I even have a chance to process it myself, you know. Sometimes I wonder if you have spies around the ministry.” You can feel him smile against you as he presses his cheek to the top of your head, giving you another squeeze. A moment passes in silence before he speaks again. “I don’t know what I would do with you, my bird. I would be lost.”

“You probably wouldn’t even be Papa.” You surprise yourself with how chipper your voice sounds and follow up your statement with a high giggle. There was some slight truth to your statement, after all. You had sat with him for many sleepless nights as he studied, and even helped with the Ghouls sometimes. Copia laughs himself before bringing his other hand up to pinch your nose slightly.

“I just punished you for misspeaking to a Papa, do I need to do it again?” The tone of his voice implies that he wouldn’t follow through with the threat but you still can’t help the tingling feeling that the words along send through your body. 

“Mm. Maybe later, Papa.” You pull the blanket farther up your bodies and press yourself close to him, tucking your head into his shoulder and turning onto your side, practically draping yourself across him. “Right now, I’d like nothing more than to sleep. You wore me out.” You stifle a yawn by pressing a kiss to his collarbone. 

“I wore myself out, I think. Still, I have things that need to be done before I can sleep. Will you be alright here on your own? Just for a little while longer?” You nod, alright submitting yourself to the cloying clutches of sleep. Still there’s an acute sense of loss as he slides himself out from under you and replaces the blanket, petting your head softly. “I’ll be in the other room.”

“Okay, Cardinal.” The smile in your voice is evident even to you and you curl in on yourself slightly as you try to restrain your laughter. 

“What did you just say?”


End file.
